I’m sorry for not writing within the past few months, it’s been a little hectic.
My mind has been everywhere like a tornado. I’ve been happy, sober, drunk, destructive and sad. I’ve fallen (in love) without love falling back. It’s been a tough few months. I released the fact that I have thought life ending things without realizing I was thinking at all. I’ve slowly drifted away from what was real and into my own story.
The story of depression can be an oversold piece of insanity with a slice of silence. I don’t write to make money or sell an idea of something. I write to help myself, and maybe one day help others as I try to continuously share the stories of my own demons.
I don’t know why it is so hard to just tell people how you are feeling; truthfully. It’s as easy as tying a shoelace (if you know how) or brushing your hair. Why don’t we do it? ~I wish I had that answer for you, but I’m stuck in the same vortex you are. It’s a trap of chaos and it’s waiting to give you your fate. I want people to know my inner secrets as much as the next person, but I can’t seem to speak my words in full. I shared words with someone I care about, and whether most of them were exact truth, I couldn’t seem to share the whole story from beginning to end because the pressure of being understood was too much. I still wanted to be heard while being in silence.
As I lay in bed for most of my unused time, I think about everything. That’s my problem. I think and I think about everything going on, and I can’t reach the off button. Then I think about death. Not always of my own, but of others I have seen and to all of those suffering as I write this. Whether you are mentally unstable, sick, or you happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, I think of you. That’s part of the illness I can’t take away. I think I’m in deeper then I or anyone else understands.
Then why are you so god damn happy all the time? Why is it so easy for you to smile all the time? Why are you allowed to show those emotions while I’m not? ~I don’t know. I need only answer that when the time is right. I’m a great liar, whether on purpose or by simply not knowing anything else. I know that a smile is enough for everyone else to think I am okay, that I’m happy and that there is nothing wrong with me. Sometimes I start believing that that is true. But then I slip back into the darkness and it swallows me whole. I’m sorry, but I’m not. “It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to let yourself grieve.” ~What if I’m done grieving? What if I’m just sad without a reason. Why is that okay? Why am I allowed to cry when I have no reason to. Why is life so hard? –It isn’t. It is me who is making it difficult. I make the devil appear. If you believe in him or not.
Some things just happen. I cry all the time, and I am sad all the time. Every second is depressing. It is not okay. It never will be. So let the world stop making it okay. If I have to be told that it will get better and I will heal, I may as well just explode on the spot. It is not fair to be told something that is untrue. Let it be known that for every person you tell that life will get better, they sink farther into that hole. They need to climb out themselves. No one else can tell them how to be better. That is their choice.